


The Circle

by Xilizhra



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blackcest (Harry Potter), Drama, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Hermione Granger Scores a Hat Trick, Infidelity, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Romance, Self-Harm, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:13:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25214467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xilizhra/pseuds/Xilizhra
Summary: Having captured Hermione in the battle at the Department of Mysteries, Bellatrix hopes to find some use for her for the Dark Lord. However, neither is prepared for the revelations each will force on the other.
Relationships: Bellatrix Black Lestrange/Andromeda Black Tonks, Bellatrix Black Lestrange/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Andromeda Black Tonks, Hermione Granger/Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Hermione Granger/Bellatrix Black Lestrange/Narcissa Black Malfoy/Andromeda Black Tonks, Hermione Granger/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Narcissa Black Malfoy/Andromeda Black Tonks
Comments: 25
Kudos: 256





	1. Darkness Falls

**Author's Note:**

> Time for my first long-form story. Special thanks to everyone in the Bellamione Cult Discord; the community is unequaled in its kindness and welcoming air, and has solidified my love of this strange yet wonderfully compelling romance.

Side-Along Apparating with an unconscious and possibly dying girl in tow, Bellatrix had abruptly decided, was not something she would recommend. Except to an enemy; that might be funny.

The Mudblood flopped unceremoniously to the hardwood floor of the dark, still Muggle house, fire from a nearby fireplace casting flickering light over her unconscious features. Bellatrix had no idea whose it was, but the Dark Lord had been most adamant about it being vacant, and an acceptable waypoint for them to meet after the Department of Mysteries. After the battle that _should_ have been a rousing success, with the wretched prophecy in tow.

It hadn't been.

As Voldemort popped into existence in front of her, she quickly knelt. Sufficient deference often soothed the Dark Lord, though after the debacle at the Ministry, she wasn't sure if any amount would be sufficient. And the look of cold fury mingled with--wait, was that _pain?_ \--on the Dark Lord's face as he quickly scanned the room was hardly encouraging.

"Only you?" His high, icy voice was little louder than a whisper. "Only you even _left_ the Ministry, Bellatrix?"

"It seems so, my lord." She kept her head low, the simmering rage she still felt over the defeat dueling with her fear of Voldemort's wrath. She had felt that burn before, they all had, but anticipation could be a knife almost as painful as his curses themselves.

Saying nothing more, Voldemort simply grabbed Bellatrix's left arm and yanked it upward, pressing a long, pale finger to her Dark Mark. As it turned black, she hissed involuntarily as the sensation of utter cold burned into her arm like a frozen brand. The pain, though, faded as quickly as it had come, as more Death Eaters quickly Apparated into the firelit drawing room. The Carrows were the first to appear, almost in tandem--separating them was often a difficult task, Bellatrix mused, and a part of her wondered if something more than sibling affection had bound them together--with Yaxley and then Gibbon following shortly afterward. Rowle was last, and he nearly stumbled drunkenly as he landed; Bellatrix took a moment to glare at his obvious lack of preparedness, before lowering her gaze once more.

"So," Voldemort breathed, pacing slowly before the assembled Death Eaters. "There are six. Six of you who--oh, pardon me, _seven,_ " he bit out as Goyle arrived; the larger man tried, unsuccessfully, to mask his clear fear at having arrived late, and Bellatrix formed the tiniest of smirks. "Seven of you to carry out my will... apart, of course, from Severus, no doubt bound by his duties to Dumbledore." He whipped his head around to glare intensely at Bellatrix, and she felt her soul shrivel under his enraged scarlet gaze. "With the prophecy we worked to acquire for a year being lost forever. I am displeased." The last word ended in a hiss, and he slowly raised his wand towards Bellatrix.

She gasped, her gaze flicking towards her prisoner. "My lord, I did bring you a lesser prize."

Voldemort paused, looking down at the unconscious, feminine heap by Bellatrix's side. "And... what, exactly, is this?"

"The Granger Mudblood, my lord. One of the Potter boy's closest associates." When Voldemort simply remained silent, she continued. "Cissy's told me all about her. Apparently, if it weren't for her wretched brains, Potter and the Weasley idiot would have died years ago."

"Fascinating," said Voldemort in an entirely uninterested voice, his eyes staying fixed on Bellatrix. "And why did you take this Mudblood alive? Unless she can be used to lure the Potter boy out, she is less than nothing to us."

Bellatrix paused. In truth, she hadn't had much of a reason for it. Left entirely insensate by Dolohov's curse, Granger had been convenient to grab in the flurry of confusion precipitated by Voldemort's arrival on the battlefield, but now...

"She will be useful to us, my lord," she vowed, her head still bent low. "There is nothing she knows that she won't tell us, when I'm through with her, and she can serve as bait thereafter... if you believe it prudent, my lord."

Voldemort stayed silent for several long moments, fondling his wand as he finally looked at the Granger girl, before seeming to reach a decision. "Very well. Bellatrix. As you are so very confident in her value, her interrogation and care will be entirely your responsibility."

Bellatrix blinked. Forgetting herself, she raised her head for a moment to look incredulously at Voldemort before dropping her gaze again. "My lord--"

Voldemort silenced her with a wave of his hand. "You will take her information and keep her alive until I say otherwise. If not... then both of us will know that you have been doing nothing more than wasting my time." Kneeling down, he took her chin in his hand, ungently lifting her head and letting their eyes meet. "Do I make myself clear?"

In spite of herself, Bellatrix's breath caught in her throat at the touch. Even enraged, even with his physical mutations since his resurrection, the man's compelling _presence,_ the one she'd first felt all those years ago when she'd been desperate to do _something_ about the wretched state of the world before plunging into his crusade, left her stomach fluttering and a sense of fulfillment, the sort of thing she'd feared Azkaban had taken from her forever, warming her body.

"Entirely, my lord."

He released her chin and turned away, toward the six other wizards. "The rest of you, once Yaxley has finished chastising Goyle for his tardiness, follow me. We have much work to do."

As Goyle's screams echoed through the dimly lit drawing room, Bellatrix looked down at her new... charge, apparently, With a (very quiet) snort of incredulity, she turned Granger over and looked into her face. The Mudblood's eyes were shut and drool slowly dripped out of her mouth, and Bellatrix could see something dark and sticky oozing out of her robe, on her abdomen.

If she survived, Bellatrix was confident that she could prove Granger's worth to the Dark Lord... but even that survival was looking like a tricky prospect, and for a moment, Bellatrix wondered if, perhaps, it would have been better to just take the Cruciatus (or Cruciatuses) and be done with it.


	2. Lingering Shadows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT NOTE: I have revised the tags (just adding more, really) because I was kind of a dumbass when I originally uploaded this, and forgot several.

_Now_

It was a lovely late morning: the beginning of summer, the sun shining brightly down on the copse of oak trees in Malfoy Manor's backyard, and Bellatrix was bored out of her mind.

No, bored was the wrong word. Restless, that was better. Energy crawled through her skin like tiny, fast centipedes, tightening her muscles and leaving her feeling like a tightly-wound spring. It hadn't been this bad at first; she was barely more than a limp rag by the time she left Azkaban, and could be moved to what were in hindsight ridiculous amounts of tears from seeing an actual sunrise. And the exercise and drilling with her fellow escapees had consumed all of her energy and left her in reasonable fighting trim for the Department of Mysteries raid, or so she'd thought.

Now, however, it had been only a few days since and the nervous energy had reached a fever pitch, leaving her positively thrumming and with few outlets for any of it apart from blasting squirrels in the yard with stunners. One black one in particular was stymying her, having dodged three red bolts already and somehow remaining just barely in sight.

Bellatrix bared her ravaged teeth in a feral grin as she twirled her wand, scanning the branches above for her quarry. Part of her would have preferred that the blasts from her wand be green, not red... but even the song of the hunt wouldn't allow her to muster enough hatred for a _squirrel_ to cast the Killing Curse. Squirrels were neither filthy Mudbloods, parasitic Muggles, nor accursed blood traitors; she wasn't Barty, whose icy loathing for anything and everything in the world that wasn't the Dark Lord had let him strike down anything that lived.

Besides, leaving dead animals piled up in her sister's yard would lead to admonishment from Narcissa, and she was frankly tired of that.

So, she instead chose to turn in a slow circle, firing more Stunning Spells up at the branches, until the damn squirrel finally fell to Earth among severed branches and rustling leaves.

Bellatrix sighed in satisfaction as she looked up at the sky... moments before her breath caught, the sun as it shone through the new gaps in the trees triggering one of those few good memories that she'd managed to recover in the wake of Azkaban.

_Then_

These were the woods on the grounds of Black Manor. Beneath that august dwelling on its hilltop, the central tower casting its own remarkably long shadow, three sisters played in the shadow of gently falling autumn leaves.

Well, to be precise, two played, one complained.

 _"Bella!"_ cried Narcissa, tiny fists firmly planted on her hips, her periwinkle dress fluttering in the breeze. "Just 'cause Andi's being stupid doesn't mean you should!"

"Oh, yes it does," said Bellatrix, grinning wickedly as she scrambled up the tree. All thin lines and sharp angles at ten years old, the curls of her wild hair and the curve of her smile were the only softness on her to contrast with knife-sharp features and bony limbs. Not at all like Cissy's gently plump softness that Bella _knew_ that she wanted to stop being six to escape, but much like her current prey, currently lying in the crook between a branch and the trunk, gleefully giggling. Her hair and eyes may have been lighter, her skin more dusted with freckles, but Andromeda was otherwise Bellatrix in miniature.

Seeing Bella approach her branch rather faster than she'd anticipated, Andi squeaked and shimmied out further onto it, suddenly looking much more vulnerable than she'd thought at first. Bella grinned again as she walked--slowly, carefully, but without clinging to the branch as Andi had--towards her sister.

"Run out of room, Andi, dear..."

"You wish, Bella. This is _my_ tree!" Andi replied hotly, sliding her body off the branch but holding onto it with both hands, moving hand over hand beneath Bella in an effort to dodge her approach. She hadn't, however, counted on Bella reaching down to grip her wrist, and looked up in shock.

Neither of them noticed Cissy's growing look of terror as Bella leaned down to whisper into her middle sister's ear "Not anymore," before twisting her body off the branch, sending them both tumbling off the branch into a windswept pile of leaves below the tree. Cissy screamed, Andi shrieked, and Bella laughed gleefully as they fell, hitting with a thump and the crunch of dry leaves.

Bella grunted as they landed, Andi having landed on top of her and knocked the wind out of her... but no real damage, as far as she could feel. She grinned in triumph as Andi looked down at her in angry incredulity. "Bella, what the--what was that?!"

"We're _witches,_ Andi," Bella assured her, brushing hair out of her sister's eye and smiling a little less smugly at her. "I don't have to get hurt falling out of a tree if I don't want to, and neither do you."

Andi blinked, her expression turning to a calmer form of disbelief. "Wait, you can--you can really do magic?"

"A little. I mean, it's not like I'd drag you out of a tree without knowing how to not break all our legs, yeah?" Bella rose, stretching a bit and reaching her hand down to her best friend, pulling Andi up before narrowing her eyes at the sight of Cissy with her face in her hands, sobbing quietly. Hurrying over with Andi following closely behind, she knelt beside her younger sister, putting an arm around her.

"Cissy, what's the matter?"

Cissy gulped, trying to speak through her tears as Bella gently stroked her pale blonde hair. "I, I, I, you _fell_ and I thought..."

"We were never gonna get hurt," replied Bella, frowning slightly. "I guess I should have told Andi first, but--"

"It's not that." Cissy let out a long, shuddering breath. "I, I just hate that awful tower and I hate thinking of you out there at night watching the stars. You can see the stars from your window, Bella, and that's tall enough!"

Bella nodded, while Andi frowned. "Wait, but--"

"She's afraid of heights, stupid," Bella hissed, quietly elbowing Andi in the ribs. At least Cissy seemed to be calming down now; she was still breathing hard, but the tears weren't flowing anymore. Bella softly kissed her baby sister's hair as she motioned Andi to come closer, and the three of them met in a group hug, the two elder pulling Cissy close to them.

"We won't get hurt if we fall, Cissy," Bella murmured. "But I won't do it again without asking you first, okay?"

Cissy nodded, pulling them both closer, a little oasis of warmth in the cool autumn breeze.

_Now_

Bellatrix walked back into Malfoy Manor, stretching her arms in satisfaction and sliding out of her tall, black boots. Surely Narcissa had gotten somewhere with the Mudblood by now, and if she had... they'd been away from each other entirely too long. There hadn't even been much time to linger at the manor immediately after her and her comrades' escape from Azkaban; the Dark Lord seemed to never rest, and neither did his missions. As was only right and proper for his vision, of course, but even ever-restless Bellatrix could appreciate a bit of time off.

Of course, with Narcissa being occupied with her tasks, restlessness was almost the only thing she had. Holding onto a precious chunk of hope that her sister could be distracted, Bellatrix swept into the guest room where the Granger girl was being held.

Once-bronze skin was an unhealthy grayish pallor and the Mudblood's chestnut hair spread out tangled and limp on the pillow, but Bellatrix's eyes at the moment were for her sister. Her tresses were bound into a ponytail much like that which Lucius sometimes wore, and her sleeves were rolled up as she tipped a potion of some sort into Granger's slack mouth.

"Cissy!" Bellatrix called as she walked in. "How fares my toy?"

Narcissa looked up, giving Bellatrix a brief smile before she turned back, murmuring a spell as she waved her wand over Granger's form. "Better than she would have if Dolohov had been able to speak. She could have died in agony days ago. Still, having her conscious and... resilient enough to be interrogated is going to be a task in itself."

Bellatrix nodded and smirked. "Well, it wouldn't have been much less than she deserved, hey?" Coming up behind Narcissa, she lowered her hands onto her younger sister's shoulders, then dropped her head onto the right one, nuzzling the other woman's cheek as her conscious mind filtered out the way Narcissa stiffened under her hands. "I've missed you, you know."

Narcissa took a deep breath and gently slipped out from under Bellatrix's hands. "I know. But... please, not now."

At a rejection this stark, Bellatrix froze, feeling like a Blasting Curse had gone off in her mind, but one that left more numb disbelief than heat--but then, the heat started, little secondary explosions of _she's Lucius' now_ and _you're twisted and ugly and Azkaban ate everything desirable in you_ and _who could ever have wanted you anyway, filthy rapist_ and she felt her breath catch. "Cissy, what--don't you..."

Narcissa rose from her chair swiftly, turning to take Bellatrix's hands in hers and look deeply into her eyes, icy blue meeting fiery black. "My _husband_ is in Azkaban. The Dark Lord is plotting Merlin-knows-what against my family for an example to set. The Ministry's been barely kept from stripping our home from top to bottom, and it can't last forever. And yet, I am _here,_ using all of the Healing expertise I can muster to keep your assignment from the Dark Lord alive." She squeezed Bellatrix's hands, and the darker witch was acutely conscious of the bony wrecks they'd become, contrasted against Narcissa's smooth and supple and _beautiful_ ones. "It would be a very foolish thing indeed, to think that I somehow did not love you with every fiber of my being, Bella."

It should have been enough. It _had_ been enough. But the fire in her mind was still burning; colder, now, fear fueling resentment, and she muttered "Not _every_ fiber, anymore."

Narcissa froze, and Bellatrix wanted to scream at herself as her sister's face reverted to the perfect porcelain mask that she wore to people who weren't worthy of seeing her feelings. Slowly withdrawing her hands, she calmly intoned "I will inform you when Granger is awake." And turned and sat back in her chair next to the bed, Bellatrix having been so neatly switched off.

Her breathing suddenly coming harder, yet desperate to hide her weakness from Narcissa, Bellatrix stormed off, making it as far as the upstairs study before she let out an enraged scream and began flinging spells, quickly scarring the walls, one Exploding Charm blasting apart an antique desk. She knew it was foolish, knew that it would only leave her forced to mend everything lest Narcissa come across more concrete evidence of this _fucking_ part of her that couldn't even stay calm and pure in the face of something so petty, but the fire raging inside her mind needed to escape, lest it burn her away from the inside out.

When it was over, Bellatrix curled into a ball to sit on the floor, sobbing, her wand uncomfortably jammed into her chest, now trying desperately to avoid thinking of anything happy before the flames could feed on that too. And so she remained until she immediately uncurled and shoved her wand in the direction of the _crack_ that sounded in front of her, vaguely recognizing the new Malfoy house-elf.

 _"What the fuck do you want, elf?"_ Bellatrix demanded, her voice high and wavering, but rage surging back to the forefront as she glared at the cringing newcomer.

"Miss... miss Narcissa has asked Nori to tell you that Granger is awake, miss," the elf mumbled, gripping the toga-like piece of tablecloth she wore.

Abruptly, the fire ceased to burn. The prospect of imminent action was the only thing that could have cheered Bellatrix up at the moment, and she moved to pull herself together, rising from the floor and wiping her face dry, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Is she? Well, I suppose I should introduce myself, shouldn't I?"


	3. The Warrior

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adjusting my schedule in the coming week, subsequent chapters should be longer. Also, let me know in the comments whether you're more interested in the present, the past, or both? I'll consider adjusting my focus accordingly.

_Then_

Bellatrix had been six when her father had first taken her to the astronomy tower.

The axis around which the entire Black family revolved, he'd explained as they ascended the winding steps. The tower had been the first part of Black Manor constructed, over a _thousand years ago!_ as he'd somewhat breathlessly explained to Bella, whose eyes had dutifully widened. He'd gone on about how the tower was the manor's heart, that pumped the blood of all of the Black ancestors through the manor just as their hearts did.

Bella had asked, her eyes now wide as saucers, if it meant that you could cut the manor's walls and make it bleed, and if that was why her parents were so strict about her running inside.

Her father had chuckled and ruffled her mop of wild black hair and said that it wasn't quite that sort of blood, but Bella had stopped listening, along with breathing, as they finished climbing the stairs and she was staring into the night sky. It was mid-December and the wind this high up was strong and bit into her even through her thick cloak, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered compared to seeing the expanse above, thousands, no, _millions_ of diamond-bright stars across a pitch-black sky. She vaguely felt her face splitting into a grin wider than she could ever remember having, as her father spoke softly behind her.

"Magnificent, isn't it?"

She giggled and turned to grip him in a tight hug, though only for a moment, lest she be torn away from the sky for longer than absolutely necessary. "Oh, yes, Father, yes!"

"The tower is terribly important, you know. It's how we know how to name children." Seeing her look of blank confusion, he continued. "It's the stars, you see. We watch the stars to find the best name for each child. To see what the future holds for them, what they'll grow to be.

Bella's brow creased into a frown. "That must be awfully strong magic."

"Oh, yes. But tricky, you see." He brushed some of his hair, dark and curly as his daughter's, away from his pale face and dark eyes, and smiled at her again. "As all strong magic is. Not everyone has a gift for telling the future--it's called Divination, by the way--enough to be able to read the stars like this. It's the centaurs who are best at it, really."

Bella wrinkled her nose in incredulity. "Centaurs? _Beasts_ are better at magic than we are?"

"Now, now. It's never wise to underestimate our... fellow creatures," her father smirked. "Especially not centaurs. They know things that others of our kind refuse to accept. Things that _we_ have sought to learn, and we've become stronger for it."

"They taught us?" asked Bella curiously.

"Not... exactly," he replied, slowly, and it would be quite a few years before Bella would know what he meant by _that._ "The point is that we know how to read the stars. When your mother was pregnant with you, and I found the star to name you for." He pointed up to the constellation of Orion above, and Bella's breath caught again as she followed his finger, swearing that she could see the star Bellatrix twinkle in response, as though she was looking down on her namesake.

"What does it mean, Bellatrix?" she asked, shivering slightly at a particularly strong breeze. Her father, as ever, showed no sign of discomfort.

"Warrior, Bella," he murmured. "The Amazon Star. I know your fate, and it's to be a warrior unequaled by any man. Greater even than me. And the enemies of House Black will tremble before you."

Bella giggled. She couldn't help it; her father was sounding so _serious,_ and she had no idea why. "But we're not at war, Father. Who could our enemies be, anyway?"

He silenced her with a piercing gaze, one that brought heat to her cheeks and a vague feeling of shame. "Anyone. Everyone who would seek to weaken us, to deprive of us our rightful station. Do you know how _jealous_ the rest of the wizarding world is of us?"

Bella stayed silent at this. She could understand other wizards being jealous; after all, she was certain that none of them had a tower like this, nor a house with so very many places to hide, nor the shadows of the hill and their woods, but she had a feeling he wasn't talking about that.

She was not, however, at all prepared for him to pull a gleaming silver knife out of his robe and slice into his palm. She gasped and stepped back as blood spilled out of his clenched fist onto the stone, but he showed no outward sign of pain.

 _"Toujours Pur,"_ he intoned as he met her gaze. "The purity of our blood, of the very essence of our witchcraft and wizardry, is _unrivaled._ We have no one equal to us, but that means that no one is content with us. We have friends, of a sort, but in the end, we have to rely on each other. To protect each other. To destroy those who threaten each other." He nodded to her, his eyes seeming to faintly sharpen. "Your hand, please, Bella."

Bella gulped, taking an involuntary step back. She thought she might see where this was going, and suddenly, she wanted nothing to do with her father, but she couldn't make it another step back without freezing up.

"You _will_ learn this, one way or another," he said, slowly but with an unarguable air of menace as he stepped closer. "And I promise that this will be the least painful way possible."

Weighing her options--there was really no chance of running past him, and jumping off the tower into who-knows-what didn't really sound better--Bella nodded, giving in and extending her right hand. Feeling almost numb, she watched him place the knife's blade in her palm and swiftly draw it back, and suddenly the numbness vanished to be replaced by an intense, burning pain as blood welled out of hand. She wanted to sob, but refused; it wouldn't do for her father to see her be weak in the face of... whatever this was, after all. Still, she couldn't help whimpering, even as she tried to hold it back.

After several droplets of her blood had spattered onto the stones of the tower, her father relented, drawing his wand out and murmuring _"Episkey"_ over her palm, and the wound sealed itself. She looked up, blinking back those tears that had been threatening to fall--blast, were actually falling, she couldn't deny it. But at least the pain had stopped, even though she wasn't sure what he'd been--

"I'm afraid your path will carry a great deal of pain, Bella," he said quietly. "It's better to confront it now than only learn it later. Still... you did well." Casually, he flipped the knife in his hand to gingerly hold it by the blade, and extended it handle-first towards Bella, whose eyes widened and tears began to fade.

"It's... this is mine?" It was beautiful, she had to admit; the silver glittered with both blood and its own shine in the starlight from above.

"Of course. You know what it does, and I know you won't misuse it. In a few years, you'll have a wand... but never underestimate what a simple knife can do to your enemies. Or friends, if you aren't careful." He raised an eyebrow. "I don't think I have to tell you about being careful around your sisters..."

"Of course not, Father!" said Bella quickly, her heart lightening. She still had barely any idea of what this was all about, but her father _trusted_ her and that was more than enough to make up for a little pain.

"Good. Use it well, my dear," he smiled, ruffling her hair again.

"Oh, yes!" Abruptly, another thought struck her, and she frowned. "So... Andi? Is she going to be chained to a rock with a great sea monster coming to eat her?"

Her father chuckled good-naturedly. "Well... we don't know for sure. But she'll face her own dangers. None that she won't be able to defeat, of course."

"I'll protect her," Bella vowed immediately.

He laughed, ruffling her hair again. "You just might at that, Bella."

"And Cissy?" Bella asked. "I don't think she's named after a star or a constellation."

His smile faded. "She's not. Narcissa... well, I'll tell you when you're older. It has to do with your mother and me."

"Oh." In truth, Bella hadn't gotten on with her mother for some time. A lot of times, it felt like nothing she did could ever be good enough for her, and she fawned on Cissy like she hadn't even to Andi. Bella wondered sometimes if Mother liked Cissy better because Cissy was blonde like her, but Father had told her to stop being silly the last time she'd brought it up. "Did the stars not tell you anything about her? That would be sad..."

After a pause, her father nodded. "As good an explanation as any. Now, off to bed with you."

Bella tried to protest, but realized it was a failure when a yawn came out instead of words, and she sighed, taking his hand again as the two of them headed back downstairs.


	4. The Lion Awakens

_Now_

Narcissa couldn't quite remember the last time she didn't want to scream, at least a little.

Just what was one to do when one's - dearly beloved, of course, but also deeply troubled - long-lost sister appeared out of the ether along with a horde of her compatriots, right on one's doorstep? Narcissa barely remembered what had happened, in all honesty - just the sight of Bellatrix being _there,_ as if time had rewound itself from that icy, awful moment when the dementors had dragged Bella out of the courtroom and instead they could have had some life not controlled or shattered by the damned Dark Lord - but of course it wasn't true; the Bella back then hadn't been reduced to a near-skeleton, had still been overflowing with energy instead of being reduced to a zombielike shuffle, had _teeth_ that hadn't been ravaged by what Narcissa was sure had to have been more than just neglect. There was no true reunion, not then. Not one that could have encompassed all there was to say.

And never after, either. The moment Bellatrix could move and at least somewhat fight, but obviously before she'd been ready to speak of _anything_ that Narcissa needed to hear, the Dark Lord had spirited her away. At least, that's how Narcissa thought of it, because the idea of Bellatrix willingly running after him away from her - _again,_ she thought in brief rage - would have been too much to bear. And after all was said and done at the Ministry, she'd traded her husband's company for her sister's, but in nothing like the way she could have -

She heard a faint groan from the bed below her, and Narcissa wrenched her attention away from the past. Only the present mattered, here and now. One more step forward, one more problem identified and solved. It looked like the girl might be awakening... and, indeed, her eyelids were fluttering even as Narcissa watched. She took a deep breath as Granger opened her eyes a crack, focusing vaguely on the older woman.

"Wuh...?" Granger mumbled, articulately.

"Miss Granger," Narcissa replied calmly. "I am sincerely glad that you've awoken. I can only hope that you suffered no permanent damage from your... exertions at the Department of Mysteries."

Granger groaned, closing her eyes again. "Who...?" Cracking them open once more, she glanced around the room. "H'gw'rts?"

"I'm afraid not. Malfoy Manor, in fact."

Granger's eyes drifted closed before they suddenly shot open in confusion and, Narcissa was sure of it, fear. "Wha? You're... you're Mrs. Malfoy, aren't you?"

"Madame Malfoy, please," Narcissa admonished gently. "I am not a Muggle."

"What does... ugh, never mind," Hermione groaned, closing her eyes and leaning back. "Why am I in your bed of all the beds? What happened... Lucius?" She opened her eyes again, looking around in growing alarm. "Are you with Lucius Malfoy? Am I--"

"My husband is gone," Narcissa said softly. "But to answer your second question, yes, you have been captured."

And with that, Bellatrix walked into the room, a light of terrible glee in her eyes that even Narcissa knew to fear. 

Hermione instantly drew back, panic evident in her movements, before Bellatrix almost lazily summoned ropes to bind her the bedposts with a flick of her wand. Narcissa winced slightly as her wrists were swiftly pressed to the wood, turning back to her sister.

"She is _fragile_ still, Bella. She still needs observation and care. Be gentle."

Like a child whose toy was suddenly ripped away, Bellatrix's expression shifted immediately from happy anticipation to rage as she rounded on Narcissa, stepping directly in front of her. "And who are _you_ to instruct me on the fine arts of prisoner interrogation, Cissy?" she growled, slowly bringing up her wand arm. "You, my dear pampered peahen of a sister whose war was spent on the sidelines as a weakling soldier's housewife? The Dark Lord entrusted this to me for a reason, and -"

Narcissa had had enough; she dearly wanted to shove her _impudent_ sister's wand to the side. But while Bellatrix had never truly hurt her - screamed, raged, shunned, and one occasion bound her ( _and,_ a treacherous voice whispered in her mind, _those were only the times you didn't want it_ ), she'd never physically attacked her sister - she didn't want to test it in a dominance contest right in front of their prisoner. Instead, she simply pushed her way to Bellatrix's ear and softly hissed _"He expects you to fail,_ Bella. This is just a longer game of his. He wants you to try to squirm your way out of punishment for the Department of Mysteries only to kill the Granger girl or render her useless. I know that you're burning to redeem yourself, but please, for me, temper that fire."

Behind her, Narcissa could see, out of the corner of her eye, Hermione's eyes flicking back and forth between the sisters, and as Bellatrix turned her head, Narcissa knew she could see them too. She groaned internally; this had already shown far too much of a divide between the sisters, and Bellatrix had seen it too. Even after exploding once already, Narcissa could tell by the tightness of Bellatrix's skin and the flush in her cheeks that she was too close to doing so again, and so she thought very fast.

"If you'll forgive me, Bella dear, it wouldn't be wise to begin interrogations now in any case. We should be moving her to a more secure place soon; the Ministry's inspection of the manor is tomorrow." Her eyes met Bellatrix's, and she mustered all the ice she could against the fire raging inside them. "I would be terribly grateful if you could assist me with preparations."

Bellatrix hesitated for just a moment, uncertainty clashing with her rage, and then swept out of the room, as Narcissa let out a silent breath she hadn't quite realized she'd been holding. She turned back to the bed, where Hermione's clear fear of the situation had begun to mingle with curiosity as she watched the darker witch depart.

_That could be a problem. She's as smart as Draco said._

Still, the ropes were keeping her in what was clearly not a wonderful position for her, and Narcissa sighed slightly as she raised her wand and unbound the girl's hands. As Hermione opened her mouth in intended questioning, Narcissa leaned forward to interrupt her thoughts. "If you try to escape, Miss Granger," she said quietly, "my sister will _ensure_ that the rest of your life consists of nothing but intense regret."

Judging by the way she shrank back, the girl believed her. One problem solved, at least. Narcissa nodded and turned away. "Our elf will bring food for you in two hours." And then she walked out.

An hour later, Narcissa was running a critical eye over the parlor, where most of the conversation with the Ministry representatives would be likely to take place. Nori was a perfectly fine replacement for Dobby (more obedient, certainly), but the Manor was large and ensuring that everything was _perfect_ as it needed to be would require at least two pairs of eyes.

Would that it could have been three.

Instead, Bellatrix was pacing back and forth in front of her, each sound of her boots on the wood of the floor like a tiny hammer knocking away at Narcissa's sanity. "Unacceptable, Cissy," she muttered. "Our front should have been much more united. I can break her, of course, but if you insist on a pace this is slow, I'll..." Her voice trailed off into a mumble as she moved towards the hall, her thoughts seemingly leading her away from conversation altogether, and Narcissa ground her teeth together as she turned towards her sister.

"Bella, love, I know you need something to do, and as such, I would very much like you to help Nori," she bit out. Calmly and politely, but she couldn't keep the edge out of her voice, and Bellatrix had an expression of mild shock on her face as she spun around.

"What? Cissy, you..." She frowned, stepping closer. "Are you all right? Is the Ministry -"

 _Of all the bloody times for her to finally be_ "Everything is perfectly all right, Bella. But I do need your help."

Apparently, that was enough, for Bellatrix immediately moved to depart, leaving Narcissa mildly shocked. She hadn't quite expected that to work, but Draco had always -"

"Oh, Merlin," Narcissa breathed. _I have to talk to her like I do Draco._ Draco who was, now, still at Hogwarts. Still safe, but it wouldn't last. It could never last, of course, for any parent, but letting him directly walk into the arms of impending death or agony when Voldemort finally decided to cast his _true_ vengeance on Lucius was another thing altogether.

Two of the people she loved more than anything in the world were directly under Voldemort's gaze, and the third was so far out of reach that it would have been just as bad if Narcissa hadn't been sure that Andromeda would survive, somehow, after everything else she had.

The ice cracked, some small but vital part melting, and Narcissa dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. Silently, as one must, but if she could have screamed to the heavens and unleashed the tempest of her fury and sorrow, she would have.

But she never could, and never would. There always had to be a heart of ice in the house of Black. Nothing else would support the last two of these ravaged souls, this broken circle, not when the fire burned without regard for fuel and the water had long since washed away. And so she brought her wet hands away from her face, and climbed to her feet, and returned to her inspection.


End file.
